In the category of Things I Will Not Repeat, I will give you a lesson in compost humility.
Before I left on our little vacation, I threw down some compost, about 3″ thick, on top of the two greenhouse beds where I had pulled up the resident tomato plants. I didn’t dig it in; I was in a bit of a rush (as ever). Well, a sick and sleeping child gave me the opportunity to get some gardening done when we returned from our trip so…I went after that compost, digging it in with my trusty wobbly three-tined cultivator.
I uncovered an egg in the compost.
“This must be old,” I told myself, as whole eggs next to never come out of the compost process whole, or if they do, they’re dried out, their contents a flaky memory on the insides of their shells.
I hit it with that trusty three-tined fork, and it exploded, KAPOW! Quite a huge pop! Kind of cool in a way. And I didn’t realize it at the time but a blob of sulfurous rotten egg came flying and landed on my head. The top of my head.
I thought rotten potatoes were gross. And boy, am I glad I always have a large jug of thinned vinegar in the bathroom! Half a gallon later, I was fresh as a daisy.
But yes: I learned my lesson. All eggs are potential stinkbombs. Do not poke!